A/N: Dedicated to my amazing friend, Nyaore (without whom I would likely not have had the courage to write) and all the readers out there who love Abelas :)

If you have a moment, please let me know what you guys think :D

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Astray

Prologue

9:44 Dragon

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The elf appeared like a specter.

The guards at the gates couldn't have stopped him, for no one had even seen him arrive. Whether he snuck in through the gardens, climbed over rooftops, or had scaled the vast cliff walls of the Keep would remain a mystery – much like his background; much like his true intentions. Each of his strides was powerful and silent, his long legs moving him through darkened corridors with purpose and determination. He walked into Skyhold's great hall with his back straight and his chin raised high, wearing a thick fur cloak and a hood that covered the entire top half of his face. Snow tumbled from his shoulders and boots with each step; his clothes looked travel-worn.

On his back, he carried a massive maul made of shimmering azure crystal. The richness of the decorations of the handle and rivets clashed with the worn state of his clothing, but this did nothing to detract from his menacing appearance. Pride and confidence oozed from him in tangible waves, so much so that when the castle guards finally spotted him, they moved aside as though directed by a higher authority. Was it the tilt of his strong chin? Or was it the way he strode in as though he owned the place? He moved without fear or hesitation. No one could have said that he didn't belong here. No one would have dared.

It wasn't his entrance that mystified the Inner Circle of the Inquisition, however. It was his timing. The Inquisitor's reports on the Temple of Mythal had never painted him as an enemy, but they hadn't praised him as an ally, either. According to these same reports and various eye witnesses, this elf had retreated into the shadows and disappeared from living record. Mysterious, really, how he stepped out of the vast world of anonymity at just the right time and in just right way. The Inner Circle couldn't have known it then, but they needed him, for with each passing day, the Inquisition fell farther and farther into darkness.

It was Josephine that spotted him first, but only Cullen recognized who he was. The Ambassador's gasp of surprise was followed quickly by several guards snapping to attention and drawing their weapons. Cullen and Cassandra followed suit, unsheathing their swords and taking a defensive stance in front of the Inquisitor's throne. The now empty throne. He stopped a good distance away, a nearby brazier flickering and dragging dramatic shadows over his covered face. Cullen's eyes narrowed. Though he couldn't see the elf's face, his strange armor was the same as the pictures Phaereth had drawn in her reports. With a painful stab of nostalgia, he recalled that she was a talented artist. The likeness was striking. It was as though this man had stepped out of her sketches and come to life.

No one said a word for several moments, the occupants of the hall perplexed by his arrival. Was this an intruder? Was he an enemy? Not even Cullen could predict that, and when his companions looked to him for action, he felt helpless. All he could do was give the guards a gesture to stay on their guard in case their visitor chose to display hostility. The elf gave them all some time to speak, and when they remained silent, he widened his stance and set a hand on his hip.

"I hear you've misplaced your Inquisitor," he said without preamble, his voice clear and strong. Beneath the covering, Cullen could see dark tattoos veining down high cheekbones and tanned skin. "I hear that she is dead." The Commander schooled his expression into a calculating glare.

"What business do you have in this hall?" he challenged. Several of the guards grimaced, for that was a tone that the Commander often used to cow even the toughest soldiers into submission. The elf didn't look intimidated, though. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited as though he had all the time in the world. Beside Cullen, Cassandra frowned and stepped towards their visitor.

"Who are you? What do you know of the Inquisitor?" she demanded. Cullen spared Cassandra an inquisitive glance, surprised that she didn't recognize their visitor. Then again, the events at the Temple of Mythal had taken place well over three years ago and she didn't always go over all the reports as thoroughly as he did. It was his job to note potential enemies of the Inquisition. At the former Seeker's question, the elf reached up and slid his hood from his face. He was fully shaved except for a thick braid of hair that cascaded down the center of his head. The markings on his face reminded Cullen of Phaereth's before the day that they mysteriously vanished. The elf's golden eyes narrowed.

"I am Abelas, and I am here to find what you have lost."

"We have lost nothing," Cassandra snapped.

"What do you hope to accomplish by lying to me, shemlen?" the elf asked, tilting his head to the side. His tone was inquisitive, as though he was truly perplexed. "There is no longer time for half-truths and secrets." Reaching into a satchel beneath his cloak, he pulled out what looked like a small leather bound journal. As he spoke, he raised it up so they could see it. "I know where she is going," he declared. The object in his hand looked vaguely familiar, but Cullen couldn't be certain where he'd seen it before. Then the elf's words sank in. He jerked forward.

"You know where she is?" he blurted out before he could think it through. Cassandra scowled at him with disapproval. Phaereth's disappearance was a matter they'd tried to keep under wraps. It wouldn't do for too many to know that the Inquisitor was missing. Abelas stared at him, his direct gaze almost making Cullen uncomfortable. Slowly, he nodded. "Then tell us," Cullen ground out.

"No. This, I will not do."

Josephine frowned. "You are not the Inquisition's ally. Why should this interest you?"

"My reasons are my own," he replied, his eyes and expression veiled and guarded.

"Then why have you come?" Cullen demanded, annoyed by the warrior's haughty attitude. They'd been searching for Phaereth for nearly two months now. Even with a massive amount of the Inquisition's resources at their disposal, they'd had no luck. What could a single elf with little knowledge of the world outside his temple know of this situation? Perhaps Abelas was bluffing. But, to what end?

"You are looking for her, as I am," Abelas explained. "It would be wise, perhaps, to share certain knowledge and resources." He looked around the room, almost as if he was searching for someone. "In particular, I came to speak with a certain Elvhen companion that traveled with her."

"Solas?" Cassandra asked, her brow furrowing.

"Was that his name?" Abelas asked. "No matter. Where is he? I would speak with him."

"He's gone," Cullen answered. "He disappeared years ago, after the defeat of Corypheus." Whether Abelas was expecting to hear this or not was difficult to tell. His expression didn't change at all. However, the Commander did notice that a spark of understanding sprang to life in his eyes.

"I see. Then it seems that I have less time than I anticipated." With that, he turned on his heel and glided towards the exit.

"Wait," Josephine called after him. "Where are you going?" He paused - seemed to consider something. Then, he lifted his hood up and over his face again, and replied without turning around.

"Emprise du Lion. If your Inquisitor is still alive, that is where she will be."